No Words
by AKJ4
Summary: A difficult journey lies ahead for Gordon Ormerod.
1. Chapter 1

**No Words**

The sun was sinking slowly down the sky, the fiery ball soon seeming to melt into the ocean, colouring the water with pinks and oranges, fingers of hues spreading across the liquid's surface. The small town of Elsinby was too bathed in the glow of the sunset, shadows lengthening as the last blackbird called across the area before returning to its roost. Coloured ochre too were the children being called inside off the road, workers returning to their homes, friends and couples heading out to town for the night. And then there was one couple, cuddled together in their garden. The last of the warming sun's rays had left them. And the cold soon intruded upon their reflective moment.

He felt her shiver. He brushed his fingers down her cheek, loosening his hold on her arm. Reluctantly, she lifted her head from his chest, feeling him start to move away from her. "You must be hungry." She sniffed, wiping away the last of her tears. She rose abruptly then, evading the hand he tried to place on her arm as she walked quickly into the house.

A sigh escaped Gordon but he made no move to follow his wife. The last half an hour had given him a lot to think about. And so it was that he took his time straightening the four chairs around the small white table, the metal interwoven to create an intricate lattice pattern.

He couldn't believe he'd been so ignorant to his wife's feelings. How could he have lived with her every day and not seen what he was doing to her? There had been times in the past eight weeks when he'd stopped himself, recognising his temper, his surliness or his plain coldness. But he hadn't realised, not until half an hour ago, that he'd upset her so much. And now with her news… He had to do something, he had to change, before it was too late.

* * *

><p>Jill glanced up from peeling a carrot to see her husband still hovering around the garden chairs, moving them an inch, only to move them back a minute later. Sighing, she drew her gaze away, the pain searing hotter than ever in her chest.<p>

_"I love you." He said with such sincerity. "That's one thing you can be absolutely certain of."_

She wanted to believe him, she really did. But still, there was some doubt there after everything that had happened. He'd acted so coldly towards her. It had been weeks since she'd felt his gentle touch, he barely ever directed soft words her way.

_"Most of all I just need you." He was almost crying; the fear he'd been carrying finally becoming too much._

He was reaching out to her. Yet, up until now she hadn't been able to help him. The only thing that had made him realise what he was doing was the- Inside of her- She slammed her hand on the work surface, she couldn't even allow herself to think of it.

She dropped the knife, cradling her now painful hand to her chest. Allowing her gaze to once more focus on the garden, she saw him, no longer pretending to be straightening the chairs. He merely stood, his head bowed, looking so lost, so forlorn.

At first she'd been angry, about the events of the day, about how he'd so nearly lost a patient through his irresponsible actions. But then he started speaking, and she listened. She heard how he'd tried, so hard, so everyone. But ultimately his ordeal was too much, and he was suffering for it. And then most intense pain flooded her; at the pain Gordon had been going through.

She'd been ignorant to it all. She'd seen only his anger and his distance. She'd know something was wrong yet her efforts had failed. Why hadn't she tried harder? But perhaps more saliently… Why hadn't she managed to connect with her husband?

She lifted her eyes again. A jolt passed through her. Gordon was no longer anywhere in sight.


	2. Chapter 2

Her eyes flicked back and forth across and expanse of their garden. The sun had set further, creating shadows in corners, fingers of darkness lengthening where trees block the sun light. She strained her eyes, hoping to pick out her husband's form in the darkness. But there was nothing; the garden was empty.

She dropped the kitchen implements, not caring where they landed. She hurried to the back down, her fingers fumbling with the handle. "Gordon?" She burst into the garden. A feeling of panic grew steadily in her, drumming her heart hard. The sound of a car door slamming met her ears. Picking up her pace, she ran around the side of the house. "Gord- Oh!" She came to abrupt stop, the collision with her husband winding her momentarily. Grateful for his steadying hand on her elbow, she caught her breath, the moment allowing her to understand with relief that he was not driving away in his car as she had feared, but was in fact walking back towards the house, towards her. "I thought- I thought you'd… I'm sorry."

"I only went to fetch something from the car." He said soothingly, sliding his hand from her elbow down her arm, eventually clasping her fingers in his.

A ghost of a smile touch her face before her eyes fell upon the item he must have retrieved from the vehicle. "Gordon?" She said warily, her gaze fixed with suspicion on the brown paper bag protruding from his trouser pocket.

"It's not what you think." He didn't want to reveal the contents, not yet, but she paused in their slow walk to the house. The look of worry and trepidation on her face pained him; to know that he was the cause… "Come on." He whispered, looping an arm around her shoulders. "I promise I'll show you later… Tonight." She resisted at first, but eventually allowed him to gently lead her into the house.

He sat down in one of the chairs at the small kitchen table, hoping she would join him. Instead, she turned moved to the counter and picked up a knife and the carrot she'd been peeling before she went to find him. He gazed sadly at her back for a minute or so. He had to say something to alleviate her worry.

"I meant what I said Jill."

"About what?" His serious tone made her pause. She turned to him, her hip resting against the kitchen counter.

"About getting help, about stopping the drugs. I'll ring Ashfordly tomorrow and get an appointment as soon as possible."

She sighed and he looked at her quizzically. He thought this was what she wanted.

"Jill?"

She sighed again, placing the vegetable down and moving closer to him to lean against the table at his side. "Gordon, the thing I'm worried about… Your reputation. If someone were to find out… I think it's best if we go somewhere where no one knows you."

He thought over her words for a moment. It was true; he knew people at Ashfordly. Mr Rose worked at Ashfordly. But would going anywhere else make a difference? He shook his head. "No, it'll be the same wherever I go. You know what our profession is like; everyone either knows you, or knows someone who knows you. I'll do it here! Right now, no more."

"Gordon…"

"Please Jill." He took her hands, pulling her to stand between his knees. "You have to help me."

"But Gordon… You need specialist help."

"You're a doctor."

"But I can't prescribe anything for you! If people found out that would be both our careers finished!"

"I don't need anything else. I'm going to do it. But I can't do it without you."

"I…" She bit her lip, a million reasons of why it would be a bad idea running through her mind. But she'd failed him so far, she had to help him. "Okay. We'll do it, together."

"Thank you." He whispered, gently guiding her down to his lap, cradling her upper body tightly against his.


	3. Chapter 3

"I think now's a good time to give you this."

"Mmm?" She followed his actions with her gaze, watching as he released her with one hand to reach into the pocket of his coat slung over the back of the chair. After a little fumbling, he withdrew the brown paper bag and placed it on the table in front of them. Now she could see the entirety of the package, it was obvious it didn't contain what she'd feared; a bottle of tablets.

She glanced from the bag to her husband's face, a little unsure as to whether she should remove the contents, until he nodded with a smile. Still with some trepidation, she reached inside, pulling out a long plain black box. The outside was velvet and she stroked her fingers over the soft material for a few moments before lifting the lid, the hinge snapping open to reveal its contents.

A gasp was elicited from its recipient, followed by several softly uttered 'thank you's. When she'd seen Gordon pocketing the package earlier, she'd had no idea it would contain such a beautiful gift for her, and she immediately felt guilty for thinking the worst of her husband. She traced her fingers over the emerald-inlaid gold. The light reflecting from the polished jewellery wavered and sparkled through her tear-filled eyes.

"I bought it last week, during one of my better moments." He kissed her cheek, tightening his hold. "I'd been horrible to you that morning, and it was only later I realised. I bought it to say sorry."

"Oh Gordon." She sighed, tears once more spilling from her red rimmed eyes. "You needn't apologise; you're ill."

"But you didn't know that." He reached up to brush away her tears with the pad of his thumb. But his action, so tender and such a rarity during the previous few weeks, prompted the flow to increase.

"I could see something was wrong though. And I failed to help you. I'm your wife and I couldn't help you for goodness sake!

"But you tried." Again he tried to sooth her, reaching down and taking her hands. You were patient, gentle, you were everything I love about you. I was too wrapped up in myself to respond."

She shook her head, pulling her hands away and wiped the salty moisture roughly from her cheeks. This wasn't about her guilt, this was about Gordon; she had to focus on her husband. Her face set in determination to prevent anymore tears falling, though they still glistened in her eyes. "Thank you for the present Gordon. It's lovely."

"Here." He breathed, plucking the bracelet from its satin cushion. The gold was cold as it settled on her skin. In contrast, Gordon's fingers were warm, tickling the underside of her wrist as he fastened the tiny clasp. "It's so fiddly." He muttered. But she was content to stay there a moment longer with his arms encircling her waist, his fingers creating pleasing sensations on her wrist, his head bent so low she could feel his breath on her stomach.

With their future as uncertain as it was, she savoured everything she could.


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner, after much delay, had been prepared and eaten. Both Jill and Gordon made a team effort of washing and drying the pots. Jill spoke of a journal article she'd recently read, and Gordon made sure to listen, something that didn't go unmissed by her. The doctors had then decided to spend the remainder of the evening in the living room. Gordon relaxed contentedly in the corner of the settee whilst Jill sat uncomfortably at his side. She forced herself not to tense under his arm, forced herself not to shift away from the hand on her stomach.

She wanted to believe he was holding her because he wanted to be close to her. But after his behaviour of the past few weeks, and after the behaviour of today… She couldn't help but think his hand lay on her stomach because of the… Inside her… She silently cursed herself; she couldn't even allow herself to think it, let alone say it.

"How far gone are you?" He ran his fingers over the soft material of her blouse, tracing the familiar form of his wife's stomach beneath.

"Eight weeks." She whispered, practically forcing the words out.

He smiled then, an image of their baby already forming in his mind. The excitement was growing, even though he had only been told a few hours previously. This prompted a question from him. "And how long have you known?"

She closed her eyes briefly; he wasn't going to take the answer well. "About two weeks."

"Two weeks!" His shout was louder than she had anticipated and she jumped, scrambling to the other end of the settee. "How could you keep it from me for that long?"

"Look I know you're angry Gordon. But not tonight eh? Please." Her weary tone seemed not to calm him. At his glare, she sighed, averting her gaze from the expression that caused her so much pain. "I'm going to bed."

He watched silently as she rose, keeping her face averted as she left the room. He didn't notice how she twisted the wedding ring on her finger with trembling hands. The anger still coursed through him, creating a tension that needed a channel. Now that he couldn't shout at his wife as an outlet, he stood suddenly, pacing the room with heavy agitated strides.

How dare she keep such important information from him? How could she keep it to herself? The revelation today had clearly been spur of the moment. If she hadn't been so upset, would she ever have told him?

Upset… The word triggered in his mind, repeating itself again and again until he paused, the anger suddenly draining from him. He cursed softly, sinking down on the chair arm. The answer to all his questions was simple; his behaviour. Just as he had since the accident, once again he'd disregarded his wife's feelings for his own.

Heaving a deep sigh, he made his way upstairs, determined to again rectify his actions. The first floor of the house was silent, no lights seeped beneath the bottom of closed doors. There was nothing to indicate the children had heard him shouting at Jill; a partial relief.

His own room was still and quiet. He could just make out Jill's form beneath the duvet as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He undressed quickly, slipping under the covers. He whispered her name, accompanied by softly gliding his palm down her bare arm. There was no reply; he hadn't expected one though he knew she wasn't asleep. He'd spent many nights next to her and had become accustomed to the change in her breathing when she slept. The tight, ragged breaths she currently released were much different. "I know you're awake love. I- I just want to say I'm sorry… again. I know I haven't been easy to talk to. I shouldn't have shouted."

"You're ill." Came a quiet reply.

"It's no excuse… It's not." He repeated when she started to shake her head.

Tears slipped down her cheeks again. For someone who rarely cried, she'd succumbed to tears an awful lot that day. She sniffed, trying in vain to gain some control over her emotions. Gordon must have realised for he kissed her cheek tenderly, his next words destroying any grasp she had on her tears. "Can I hug you now?"

Her only reply was a nod and sob. Taking the movement of her head as forgiveness for his harsh words, he slipped his arms around her, pulling her back to his chest. He brushed her hair from her face, combing his fingers through the strands as he knew she liked for a few minutes, prompting a smile of contentment from her at the sensations he was eliciting. But then his hands moved to rest against her stomach and the smile slipped her features, the doubts creeping back in.


	5. Chapter 5

The night seemed long for both Jill and Gordon. Sleep was intermittent, dispersed with periods of restless worry. Still, when one woke, the other would take their partner in their arms and sooth him or her to sleep. Gordon succumbed to two nightmares that night, Jill holding him close on both occasions, feeling him trembling against her. Her soothing hands on his back, and her soft words served to slow his breathing. He'd stuttered out a little of the visions against her neck as he lay calmed later on, but his words were broken and muffled, their coherence was limited.

Jill had woken many a time to a sick feeling that was only due in part to the early stage of her pregnancy. On the couple of occasions that Gordon was also awake, he had hugged her to him, rolling onto his back so she was cushioned against his chest. He'd pressed his lips to her head, ran his fingers through her hair as he knew she liked, and held her securely with his free arm. But unlike Jill, he could offer no word of comfort; how could he, when he and his illness were the problem?

The pattern of waking then sleeping changed however at nearly half past four when Jill awoke. She turned from the window, fully expecting to face her husband. But she was alone. A run of her hand over the sheets found them to be cool. Releasing a deep, shaky breath, she slid out of bed, taking her dressing gown from the hook on the bedroom door, noting that her husband's robe was missing. All was quiet upstairs, though as she descended downstairs, she could make out rustling and quiet mumbling; the voice one she immediately recognised as Gordon's.

"Hey." She whispered as she reached the hallway, her eyes focussing on Gordon's pacing form. He turned, startled in the darkness, before moving rapidly towards her, his arms wrapping around her in a tight hug. "Hey." She repeated, her voice equally as soft though a surprised noise left her lips from he suddenly released her.

"I… I'm sorry. I just- I really really need some."

"I know. I know." She murmured, rubbing the palms of her hands up and down his arms soothingly. "But do you think you can wait, just a little while longer?"

"I don't know… Maybe… I think- I don't know!"

"Alright. You're okay." She soothed when he tore himself from her grip. "Gordon, love. Come on. Come with me." She took him by the hand, leading him into the living room. It took a little persuasion to get him to settle on the settee, his legs stretched out along the length of the cushions, his head in her lap. Gentle fingers ran through his hair, her lips releasing soothing words whilst all the while the worry within her grew stronger and stronger.


	6. Chapter 6

Diazepam, Nitrazepam, Tramadol... Two benzodiazepine drugs and an opioid… As she riffled through her husband's Doctors' bag, she mentally went through all the possible side effects of withdrawal. Her search only yielded one bottle of each. Next was his coat. She lifted the beige mac from its position on the rack next to hers, delving her slightly shaking hands into each pocket – nothing. Where else would he keep drugs? She looked aimlessly around the hallway until her eyes fell upon the bunch of his keys on the telephone table.

Elsinby was silent as she stepped outside the back door, despite it being fairly light. Then again, she had to remind herself, not many people tended to wander the streets at five in the morning. She was thankful their driveway was round the side of the house so none of the neighbours would see her padding around bare foot in her dressing gown. She eased into the passenger's seat of the dark green car. Opening the glove box revealed one bottle of both benzodiazepines. She then moved to kneel on the floor beside the car, reaching her hand beneath the seat, her fingers groping for a smooth glass bottle, but aside from the odd sweet, her search was unsuccessful.

She glanced back, checked the path, assuring herself she was still alone. She'd left him comfortably asleep on the settee. He'd tried, really tried to last as long as he had. But he had been in so much pain. Eventually, she'd had to relent and give him some Tramadol and Nitrazepam, albeit at a very slightly reduced dose. She'd lain down with him, holding him close as he gradually relaxed and succumbed to a peaceful sleep.

Despite knowing deep down her actions were for the best, she still felt guilty at rifling through her husband's belongings. It felt as if she were invading his privacy, going behind his back; she felt as though she was slowly destroying the very foundation of their marriage and friendship. The thoughts weighed heavily on her despite knowing how desperate he may become in the days ahead, and how whilst he was going through withdrawal, she wouldn't be able to trust him.

With a heavy sigh, she locked the car. Through her husband's desperate omission of the drugs in his bedside table, and her own search of his belongings, she'd elicited two bottles of Diazepam and Tramadol, and three of Nitrazepam.

The house was, thankfully, still silent when she re-entered. A check on Gordon revealed he was still sleeping soundly, his breathing deep and easy. She brushed the hair at his temple for a second or two before rising from her crouched position next to him, brushing a kiss to his forehead as she went.

Moving into the hallway, she made for her doctors' bag, taking it from the high shelf, clicking open the clasp and depositing the bottles into it. She realised, as she replaced the bag out of the children's reach, that she would have to find a more suitable place for it. Tom and Katie may still be unable to reach it, but Gordon certainly could.

Tom and Katie… At this thought she practically ran up the stairs. She hoped they had slept the night through and had not heard their father's night-time distress. She eased open their bedroom doors, thankful that they both seemed settled and content. But this didn't solve the problem of what she was going to do with them. They couldn't possibly stay in the house with their Gordon going through withdraw. At the same time, she couldn't ask someone at The Royal to take care of them; questions would be asked, Gordon's condition would be revealed and his reputation ruined.

Closing the door to Tom's room, she leant heavily against the hallway wall, rubbing her aching forehead and closing her tired eyes. She was only just beginning to realise how difficult this was going to be. And that was without taking into account her own condition…


	7. Chapter 7

Gordon awoke alone, disorientated for a fair while about his surroundings. As gradually he realised he was lying not in his bed but on the living room settee, the events of the night too came back to him. He remembered waking a few times, being comforted by his wife back into sleep. And then… And then he remembered becoming agitated, going downstairs, feeling incredibly ill, though this memory soon became hazy. The last thing he could recollect must have been some time later. He was feeling calmer, sleepy, in his wife's arms, soothed by her gentle caresses and soft words. So where was Jill now?

He rose, groaning as his body protested, wincing as his head pounded at the change in position. But nevertheless he made a slow journey out into the hallway. His pace picked up on his climb up the stairs as his vision cleared, his pulse slowed and his blood pressure regulated.

The sound of retching and coughing reached him through the ensuite bathroom door, hurting him to think she'd been suffering the same ordeal every morning for a week and he'd been none the wiser. But what pained him more was the sound of his wife's quiet crying. He wasn't going to let her suffer a moment longer by herself. When his knock wasn't answered, he eased the door open, ready to close it again if she refused him entry.

The sight that met his eyes made his heart ache all the more. There on the floor, curled by the toilet sat his wife, dressed merely in a nightie, her hair unruly, her face averted. "Oh sweetheart." He murmured, crossing first to the sink, wetting a flannel and filling a beaker with cold water. He then lowered himself down beside her, handing her the flannel which she took gratefully but silently. The beaker was passed over next. He noted how her hand shook as she held it to her lips, taking slow sips. In fact, he noticed then that her whole body trembled.

He sat silently as she drank, allowing her to compose herself. The only contact was his fingers against the hand on the floor which braced her weight. He stroked a feather light pattern over her soft skin, his fingers trailing right the way from her wrist to the tip of her digit and back again. It was at this action that Jill finally raised her gaze, her long, dark lashes lifting to allow him to see her tear-filled eyes. They rested on him for a long moment, her lips turning into a tiny, sad smile which twisted whilst her eyebrows drew together in an attempt to control her tears.

Gently, he eased the now empty beaker from her tight grip, discarded it, then slid his arms around her, pulling her against him. It wasn't long before she heaved a deep, shuddering sigh, her ribcage pushing against him for a moment, before she sagged in him arms.

"I'm sorry." She cried softly.

He cradled her tighter against him, gently dismissing her apologies while all the time she kept uttering them. He placed numerous kisses into her hair, to her forehead, her cheeks. His thumbs smoothed away her tears as quickly as they fell.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here for you these past few mornings darling."

"I just feel a bit rotten." She sniffed and raised her head. "I usually feel better after some dry toast."

"Feel ready for some now?"

She nodded, watching him stand then taking his offered hand, allowing him to pull her up. Looping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close once more, determined to support her for once, knowing, with the difficult journey ahead, he would have little chance to do so.


	8. Chapter 8

"Thanks." She smiled up at him as the plate of toast was placed in front of her, though as he sat down beside her, the smile turned to a frown. "Are you not eating?"

"I er I don't feel like it."

"You have to eat love. Here, at least try." She pushed her plate towards him but he moved it back.

"Oh no you don't. I can't take food from a pregnant woman!"

She forced a laugh but averted her gaze, breaking the eye contact. "Please though, try and eat. You probably won't feel well enough most of the time; you need to take every opportunity you can."

At his nod, she smiled weakly though this was quickly overtaken by a yawn. She closed her heavy eyes briefly, all too tempted to succumb to the sleep she so desperately needed there and then. But she couldn't, she wouldn't allow herself. She had Gordon to think of, and the children, the hospital, the… The baby. She grimaced, quickly lowering her head as in the pretence of examining her fingernails. She hoped her husband hadn't seen her expression

A heavy sigh escaped him. He hadn't noticed her discomfort at thinking of the baby; he was too preoccupied with the weariness her body held, the dark lines under her eyes. He leant closer, taking her soft hand in his. "I know what I said last night… But perhaps it would be better if I were referred to Ashfordly. I just- Darling I don't want to put too much pressure on you."

"We discussed this love. We can't risk your reputation. I'm not going to desert you. It's going to be difficult, but we're going to get you through this, I promise you Gordon."

There was no verbal response, just a gentle squeeze of her hand though it wasn't nearly enough to express his intense mixture of feelings towards his wife; love, guilt, pride, worry, it all swirled within him, making him even more nauseous. He gazed at her averted face for a few seconds before releasing his hand to allow him to slide both arms around her. He eased her body closer to his, allowing him to hold her tightly, wanting nothing more than to protect her from the days to come.

"Look, I'll call in, tell Lizzie we'll both be off today."

"No! It'll look suspicious if both of us are off together."

"I'm not leaving you!" She pulled back to stare at him wide-eyed, only just beginning to imagine the state he might be in if alone.

"You'll have to. I'll be fine."

"I…" She sighed, massaging her forehead with her fingertips. The situation was impossible! "Alright. But I'm coming home during my breaks, at lunch and at least once during my house calls. Alright?"

"Okay but don't tire yourself out. Perhaps you should tell everyone at work about the baby, that way they can help you out some more."

"Not yet. Anyway," she hurried on, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "I think we should see if your Mum could pick the children up tomorrow. I know it's a week until the summer holidays but they can't see you like this."

"I know." He gazed adoringly at her. "You've got everything figured out, haven't you?"

"I hope so…"


	9. Chapter 9

She'd left him with a slightly lower dose of his medication, the proviso he took it only when he really needed it. He promised and she wanted to believe him, she really did. But being a doctor, she had first-hand experience of drug-withdrawal. And she knew, whether Gordon had been telling the truth or not, when the symptoms kicked in again, he would have a hard time sticking to his promise.

And so it with a distracted mind that she went through her morning routine; greeting Lizzie in reception, receiving her post and patient files, warily eying up the screaming children in reception and hoping they were Jeff's patients instead or hers. Though this morning she had the added task of explaining first to Mr Carnegie and then to Jeff and Lizzie that Gordon was ill. She said he had the flu, that he wasn't fully recovered from his accident and it had hit him hard. This seemed to appease them.

She had them proceeded to help Lizzie split Gordon's morning and evening surgeries, ward rounds and house calls between herself and Jeff. Already the day looked to be a long one, and that was without taking into account the fact that all the wards were in over-capacity from the typhoid outbreak the previous day. Many of the patients were out of danger though they would still need to stay hospitalised. However, thankfully, Jeff had reported that only two new cases were reported overnight.

By the time Lizzie had finished dealing out Gordon's patients, reception had filled up considerably and Jill had only a few minutes to settle into her office before the interminably long morning surgery was to start. She had just stepped inside her office and was in the process of removing her coat when a knock came at her door. "Come in!" She called, forcing herself not to sigh at the unneeded interruption.

"Good morning Doctor." The small figure of Matron appeared. "May I come in?"

"Of course." She gestured to a chair with one hand whilst hanging her coat up with the other.

"Mr Carnegie informs me that Doctor Ormerod is ill."

"Yes…" Jill replied, unsure where the older woman was leading with her statement. "I'm afraid he came down with a bad case of the flu last night."

"Oh dear." Matron's voice was soft though she gazed steadily at the doctor, making said doctor feel increasingly uncomfortable. "I meant what I said yesterday; don't overdo it, not in your condition."

This time Jill couldn't contain her sigh. "Matron I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it. We don't want anyone to know just yet."

"Of course not." She smiled. "By 'we' I'm guessing you told Gordon?"

A heavy sigh was released. "Sorry?" Perhaps Matron, unusually, wasn't making much sense. But more likely it was the lack of sleep and the worry at the whole cursed situation that was making her slow.

"You said 'we don't want anyone to know yet'. I'm assuming that means you told him."

"Oh… Yes, he knows."

"And he's pleased?"

"Yes he's pleased." She practically snapped. "Look, Matron I'm sorry but I really must get on."

"Alright." She rose and smoothed down her deep blue uniform. "I realise things are probably difficult for you at the moment. So if you need an ear, or just a shoulder doctor, you know where I am."

Doctor Weatherill sat in silence after she'd left. Matron couldn't possibly know. Could she?


	10. Chapter 10

Morning surgery was a slow one for Jill. She kept trying to tell herself he would be okay, but so many scenarios kept springing to mind. He could feel ill, scared. He might have hurt himself. He might even have left the house…

The last thought was the most terrifying, serving to consume most of her attention throughout the morning. But still she fought to conquer the nausea caused by her worry and concentrate on her lengthy list of patients.

Mrs Johnson, Mr Graham and Miss Harris were all placated with her assurance that nothing was wrong. Young Tommy Green was prescribed some antibiotics for his ear infection. Mr Farnham was referred to Ballantine, Scarborough General's back specialist. Mrs Reed was placed on the following Tuesday's surgery list for removal of a rather large and painful bunion. And finally Mrs Woodson and three year old Alice Torrington-Smithe were admitted with some rather worrying symptoms. Tests were ordered for the last two patients, and she promised both she'd see them later in the day on her ward rounds.

And so it was that at 11 o'clock – half an hour later than usual – she finished morning surgery. She speedily, but no less meticulously wrote up her notes, then donned her coat, picked up her bags, and passed the files onto Lizzie as she passed through reception. "I'm just popping out for my break Lizzie. I'll be back in time for my ward rounds."

"Right you are Doctor." The receptionist beamed, beginning to file the patient notes.

Thankful that there were no messages from Lizzie, and with nothing left to detain her, Jill left the red brick building. She drove as fast as she dared, keeping just within the speed limit and making a few manoeuvres a driving instructor would not be pleased to see. She just hoped she'd be able to keep to the promise she'd made to Lizzie, but if something was wrong at home, she certainly wouldn't be back within her allocated fifteen minute break. The nausea she'd been feeling all morning grew as she neared the house, as she became all the more scared of what she'd find once she arrived.


	11. Chapter 11

The front door was opened with shaking fingers, causing the keys to jingle together on their metal ring. She drew them up, pressing them together in the palm of her hand as she paused in the hallway, her breath held as she strained to hear some movement from within the house. There was none.

She called his name, then again louder, unable to keep the panic from making her voice waver and her tone higher than normal. She paced quickly along the ground floor, checking in all the rooms, peering through the kitchen window to the garden outside. Still, there was sign of him. Everything seemed as she'd left it that morning.

She cursed herself under her breath, rapidly uttered words berated herself and her decisions. She knew she shouldn't have left him alone! She's a doctor for goodness sake! Patients' responses to withdrawals were many and varied but she knew first-hand how dangerous the process could be. If anything had happened to him…

She began to ascend the stairs, her heart hammering hard and fast. In her rush, she forgot to miss the creaky step, the noise it released when she trod upon it made her jump, and she halted momentarily until she realised the sound was of her own making. And then she was before their bedroom door. She depressed the handle, hearing the click of the jamb releasing the frame, and she pushed it open, terrified of what she might see. And there… And there, lay her husband, awake, safe, unharmed.

"Oh Gordon thank goodness!" She rushed to his side, her fingers combing through the thinning hair at his temple as he looked at her somewhat sleepily.

"What's the matter?" He asked, his expression showing his growing alertness as his took in his wife's obvious distress. His sat up, his brow creased in concern and confusion, his eyes gazing at her with the softness he reserved just for her, imploring her to divulge her worries to him.

"I thought…" She haltered, gulping back the rush of emotion which threatened to overcome her. "I thought- Oh Gordon! I thought something terrible had happened to you!" A sob was released involuntarily but still she rushed on. "I've been so worried all morning. Anything could have happened. I should never have left you alone! You need proper round the clock medical assistance. Gordon- I-" She brushed the tears roughly from her cheeks and swallowed hard against the impending sobs. "I think we should reconsider. You, you can't be left alone all day. I-"

"Hey." Gordon interrupted softly, stopping her rush of words. He slid his hands around her waist, clasping his fingers at the small of her back, encircling her but keeping her at arm's length so he could maintain eye contact. "I'm okay aren't I? I took the pills when I needed them, and I slept most of the time."

"But you won't always have the medication to hand. Your next dose isn't due until two o'clock, at the end of my lunch hour. I can't leave the tablets with you and expect you to wait on your own accord."

"Well…" He sighed, at a loss as to what to say to alleviate her concern. He knew as well as she the difficulties of withdrawal. "Look… I was thinking earlier. Perhaps we could get a lock or a bolt for the bedroom. You can lock me in here whilst you're at-"

"No! Absolutely not!" This time it was Jill who interrupted Gordon, but much more vehemently. Her expression was one of horror as she contemplated what he was suggesting. "What if something were to happen and you couldn't escape. No, no way. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you."

"Well what's the alternative? You said yourself you were worried all morning."

"The alternative is that we get you admitted to a hospital, where you can receive the care and treatment you need."

He shook his head, tightening his hold on her, easing her closer to him. "No Jill, please. We discussed this. We can't risk anyone finding out. It's not just my reputation I'm worried about. It's yours too. I know you're a private person Jill, you don't like your personal life splashed around. But that's what will happen if anyone finds out love."

"You're more important to me."

"And I don't doubt that sweetheart." He leaned forward to kiss her cheek softly as the first tear fell. "But I honestly think being at home is the best solution. And I won't be alone for very long. How long was it this morning? Less than three hours? Please, just consider what I suggested. And, if it doesn't work out at home, then we can consider hospitalisation."

"Okay." She responded quietly, her lips quivering, after some minutes of deliberation. "I want you to know, though, that I know I haven't been a good wife to you. But I do love you Gordon, more than anything. I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt you deliberately."


	12. Chapter 12

She reluctantly left the house a short time later, only after parting from Gordon with a lingering kiss and a tight hug. She drove through the familiar roads back towards the hospital in the family car. After Gordon's accident, they needed a new large car; the Zephyr was irreparable. Her small green car was unsuitable for a family. And so she had sold her beloved mini. The money from the sale, combined with the insurance money from his crash, allowed them to buy a new car. They had mutually decided that once they could afford it, they would get her a new mini and Gordon would drive the Rover. Gordon however had, as yet, done very little driving. Jill used the car to ferrying themselves and the children between work, school, the shops, after-school activities. And when she wasn't available during working hours, Frankie had been the one designated to take Gordon to his house calls.

Frankie had informed her of the one time since the accident that Gordon had decided to take over the driving. This had ended swiftly with a near collision with Teddy the stationary salesman. Frankie had said that Gordon had emerged from the car looking decidedly distant, and was even more ill-tempered than usual.

After pulling the Rover into the hospital car park, the rest of the morning was then spent on her ward rounds, considerably longer than usual with Gordon's patients as well as her own. She followed up on the two patients she'd admitted that morning; Mrs Woodson and little Alice. The notes at the ends of their beds told her the nurses had drawn the blood she requested and sent it off to the labs. So it was just a waiting game until the results arrived. At least neither had deteriorated since she'd seen them earlier that morning. She altered the medication of two of Gordon's patients in Milner Ward, and all the other patients seemed to be recovering from their varied accidents, illness and operations nicely.

It created an odd feeling whenever she opened a file to reveal her husband's familiar writing. His writing was small, neat, so unlike her larger, curvier penmanship. The writing was part of him and so she loved it. Reading it now created a warm feeling within her, making him seem somewhat closer to her. And reading the notes brought her to some resolve. To someone who didn't know him, reading through the notes would make it obvious that Gordon was an incredibly intelligent, experienced and knowledgeable doctor. If he were to have to stop practising medicine… No, Gordon was right; the only way to deal with his current situation would be to treat him secretly, at home.

So she did as he had asked. At lunch, she went to the hardware shop on the high street, purchasing a bolt. When she returned home during lunch he was sleeping soundly. As quietly as she could, she fixed the bolt to the bedroom door. She left his dose of medication on the bedside cabinet along with a note to explain he was locked in as requested. Still, it actually made her feel sick when she closed the bedroom door and slid the bolt across. She could barely comprehend they were in a situation where such measures were necessary.

By the time she popped in during her afternoon house calls, the medication had gone, but he was sleeping peacefully again. However, this time she did not leave the pills. There would be no more opportunities for her to return home until the end of the day. This would be at least half past seven, after ward rounds and evening surgery, though when these were meant to finish and when they actually did were usually two different things. But despite all this, and despite all her medical knowledge and experience, part of her actually felt a little more at ease. Nothing major had happened yet, Gordon actually seemed to be coping well with the withdrawal. Perhaps it would be easier than either of them had anticipated.


	13. Chapter 13

"Hello Sarah." Jill smiled as she stepped into the living room. "Tom and Katie."

"Hi Jill!" Tom waived from his position in front of the television. Katie on the other hand made the effort to rise from the settee and hug her tightly at the waist.

She reciprocated the hug, stroking a hand across Katie's light brown hair. "You haven't seen your Dad have you?"

"No, Sarah told us not to." Tom stuck out his bottom lip, making Jill chuckle despite everything.

"I haven't heard a peep out of him Doctor." The nanny piped up. "He must have a bad case of the flu."

"Indeed." Jill murmured. "Can you take care of these two whilst I check on him?"

"Of course."

"Thanks." She made her way first into the kitchen, filling a glass with water. She then removed the glass bottles from her doctor's bag, shaking out the required dose, then replacing the rest back inside. She snapped the clasp closed and replaced the bag back on the high shelf in the hallway, out of the children's reach.

She then made her way up the stairs, a little anxious at what she'd find, but reassured by how well he'd seemed during the day, under the circumstances. And she almost smiled; she'd missed not working with him and was looking forward to spending time with him. But whatever slight smile her features held vanished as soon as she opened the bedroom door.

The sight that met her eyes possibly hit her harder than almost anything else had. The sight of her husband in his current state, was almost as devastating at seeing him slumped in his crumpled car only mere weeks before "Gordon, darling?" She eventually breathed, advancing into the room. She reached out a hand, almost sobbing when he flinched away, inching backwards into the corner of the room beneath the window. "Alright love." She backed away, gazing with a great sadness at the image of the normally strong man before her.

He was crouched down; his form huddled in on itself and pressed against the wall. His face was averted, though from what she could see was covered in a film of sweat. He'd vomited at some point; his pyjamas needed changing though he seemed not to notice. But this wasn't what struck her most. No, what actually, physically, pained her was the complete fear she'd seen in his expression as he'd made very brief eye contact when he'd backed away from her. It was withdrawal from the Diazepam; his anti-anxiety drug. It was just as vomiting was a symptom of withdrawal from the Tramadol. Still, it hurt her so very deeply to think he was so scared of her.

She tried again, crouching down before him, laying the pills and glass of water down between them. "Here's your medication love." She began softly, forcing her voice not to wobble as he flinched when she spoke. "There's nothing to be scared of darling. I'll never hurt you. You know that love, deep down you know that." Still he cowered away from her. She hated seeing him like that, hated knowing that her presence caused such fear. She swallowed back the tears, wanting nothing more than to stay and take him in her arms and protect him, yet she knew her presence was making him feel so much worse. "Look, I'll leave you alone now, okay darling. But please, please take the medication. It'll make you feel so much better." She threw him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, though he kept his head buried in his arms folded across his drawn-up knees. She backed away, keeping him within sight until the last possible moment, until she finally had to open the door.

After closing it behind her, she sank down, her ear pressed to it, straining to hear any movement from within. She couldn't leave him, not even to go downstairs. At thought hit her then; how long had he been like that? And what if she's been delayed at the hospital? What would have happened to him?

Floating up from downstairs, she could hear the laughter of her step-children, thankfully unaware of what was happening within their own home. Yet through the bedroom door, she could make out the most heart-breaking sound she'd ever heard; her husband crying.


	14. Chapter 14

Eventually, she had to tear herself away from their room. Gordon had quieted a while ago, yet she didn't want to enter until the pills had fully taken effect. The last thing she wanted was to scare him again. And so she rose, straightening her skirt and brushing the tears from her cheeks. She thanked Sarah for taking care of the children, promising to pay her extra. She then sat down with Tom and Katie, taking the time to play with them and listen to their days. Yet she kept part of her attention fixed on what may be happening in the room above their head, she strained to hear any noise in case he may need her.

An hour or so later came the task of getting Tom and Katie up to bed. Naturally, they protested, pleaded, and generally dug their heels until they realised from her stern tone that she was in no mood tonight. When she'd eventually chivvied them upstairs, they stopped outside her and Gordon's room, intent on going in to say goodnight to their father. "Shh." She hissed, pushing them gently into Katie's room and closing the door. "Your Dad's poorly. He's trying to sleep." There was some partial truth in that at least. They seemed appeased with his, incredibly quietly going about getting ready for bed, only speaking in whispers to each other and to Jill. As they snuggled up either side of Jill on Tom's bed, they even proceeded to hush her at various points during the story she was reading them. The story served to make them sleepy and they settled thankfully quickly, allowing Jill the next duty of seeing to her husband.

She tapped gently on the door, though received no response as she expected. She eased the door open slowly, not wanting to startle him if he was still anxious. He was still beneath the window, though he was now more sprawled instead of curled tightly in fear. When their gazes locked, she saw with relief that there was no fear within his eyes. He did, however, look exhausted.

"Hello Gordon." She spoke gently, picking the now empty glass from the floor and placing it her bedside table. She surveyed him for a second, taking in his sweat soaked pyjamas, the vomit down his front, the grey colour of his skin. "How are you feeling?" A lethargic nod of his head was the only response to her soft question so she continued. "I'm just about to phone your mother, ask her about having the children to stay. Then I'll come back and run you a bath, get you cleaned up a bit?"

He nodded again before tipping his head back against the wall behind him and closing his eyes. She took this as her cue to leave and made her way downstairs to the phone, wondering just what on Earth she was going to tell his mother.


	15. Chapter 15

The conversation with Gordon's mother was thankfully brief. Jill explained that Gordon had a bad case of the flu, and with the unpredictability of her job, it would be best for the children if they were to stay with their grandmother. It scared Jill slightly how readily Betty Ormerod accepted her lie. But then again, she'd had enough practice lying to the children, the nanny and everyone at work. Still, she had to convince herself, it was for the best.

After resting the receiver in its cradle, she'd tiptoed up the stairs, firstly confirming the children were both asleep and then entering her bedroom. Gordon was still on the floor when she entered, though at least he was sat up a little straighter, and acknowledged her presence with a tiny movement of his lips. She ran a bath, helped him change and supported his weight on her weary frame through into the bathroom, and finally into the warm water. Leaving him for a few minutes gave her time to change the bed, load the soiled bedding and Gordon's pyjamas into the washing machine, and then remake the bed with fresh sheets. She then returned to find her husband looking a little better; the warm water seemed to have relaxed him and made him feel slightly refreshed. Jill then proceeded to wash him with a bar of soap and a flannel, her pace quick, mindful of any embarrassment he may be feeling.

"Thanks." He murmured when eventually she helped him into bed. She sat at his side, running her fingers through his short hair. She forced herself not to yawn, or sigh, or generally give any indication of the tiredness, weariness and aching muscles plaguing her.

"Your Mum is coming up sometime tomorrow mid-morning, I told her you've got a bad case of the flu. She's happy to have the children for a few weeks. I'll phone the school tomorrow, explain things as best as I can. They won't be pleased though… And I suppose I'll have to try and think of something to tell Tom and Katie. I don't want them to feel as if we're trying to get rid of them."

Gordon nodded lethargically, reaching out and laying a heavy hand on her thigh. "You're amazing Jill."

She shook her head, busying herself with straightening the sheets around her husband's shoulders. She felt him move his hand on her leg, stretching until his fingers brushed her stomach which, she was convinced, had taken on a visible swell in the past couple of days.

"How's baby?"

The effort not to flinch away from his hand, not to evade his question, was immense. She forced herself to steady her breathing before replying. "It's fine, nothing for you to worry about." And she stood up, slightly too abruptly, but attempted to rectify the situation by taking his hand and guiding it back beneath the covers. "You sleep now love."

She turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness after first glancing at her watch and biting back a groan at the time; quarter to one. It was then, finally, that she crawled into bed herself. She released an involuntary sigh as the mattress took her weight. Everything she had to do, everything facing them, was pressing down on her more than ever. But thankfully, sheer exhaustion came to her rescue, shutting out every worry and anxiety from her mind and pulling her quickly to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

The fact she fell asleep quickly was no indication the rest of the night would pass as well. She should have expected it, really, especially given the nightmares he was already suffering from since the accident. She knew the proportion of dream sleep increased after withdrawal of Benzodiazepines.

He'd awoken numerous times during the night, sometimes crying out as fear swept through him. She'd held him close, soothing him with gentle words and caresses, until eventually he fell to sleep once more. The sleep would inevitably be short, and the whole process would start all over again. It was her own body which had forced her from her bed at six o'clock, sending her dashing to the bathroom to rid herself of the burning bile. By the time she felt ready to draw herself from the bathroom, Gordon was once again agitated, but this time it was because it was close to his next dose of Tramadol. So she sat with him a while longer, serving to calm him enough to wait until his allotted time. This was some progress at least.

The time was then such that she had to get herself, and two uncooperative children ready for the day. She kissed her husband as she left, chivvying Katie and Tom out before her. The kiss lingered until she had to force herself away, out of the house, and attempt to quash her worries enough to function at work.

The result of the morning was that she now sat, eyes drooping at her desk. The words produced by her fountain pen were barely comprehended, the ink swimming before her tired gaze. She wanted nothing more than to take some time, make some coffee and wake up. Yet she couldn't; she needed to finish her patient notes as soon as possible. Her mother-in-law was arriving within the hour.


	17. Chapter 17

Jill pulled up at the train station with only minutes to spare. She dashed through the small, almost empty waiting room, and out onto the platform. The train had just pulled in, cloaking the area with a cloud of smoke. It was a few seconds therefore, before she spotted Mrs Ormerod walking towards her.

"Hello Betty." She bent down, giving her mother-in-law a slightly awkward hug, only then noticing the man standing at her side. "Henry! I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were coming."

"Bit of a spur of the moment thing. I do hope you don't mind."

"Oh, not at all." The hug that ensued was a little less formal. Henry's kindly demeanour served to relax her a little as she led them to the car park.

"Sorry Henry. Have you enough room?" She glanced in the rear-view mirror of her car, only realising once she started driving that Henry would no doubt be uncomfortable cramped on the back seat. "I'm afraid my mini's not suited for anyone other than children in the back."

"I'll survive dear. It's not far to yours anyway is it."

She smiled in reply, redirecting her gaze to the road and addressed her next question to Mrs Ormerod. "Thank you for coming Betty. I hope the journey was well."

A curt nod was her response, and Henry jumped in to reply. The remainder of the car journey passed the same; Betty sat staunchly with a frosty expression, and Henry filling the tense atmosphere with genial chatter. Jill meanwhile forced herself to concentrate on driving as an uneasy feeling grew within her.

As soon as Jill unlocked the front door of the house, Betty swept through, turning to the doctor and eventually addressing her. "I'd like to see my son." Her voice was cold, determined, and this coupled with her demeanour in the car made Jill feel very nervous indeed.

"He's not up to visitors. In fact, he's probably sleeping; I don't want to disturb him."

"You're lying." The accusation was harsh, yet with a surety that once again caught Jill off guard.

"Betty, please. He's not well, really." She tried, though realising immediately it was in vain when the older woman brushed past her and climbed the stairs. Jill followed her up more slowly, still unable to shake off the weariness consuming her body.

Betty gazed in horror at the bolt across the couple's bedroom door. Her daughter-in-law meanwhile stood silently.


	18. Chapter 18

"Open the door."

"I-"

"Open the door!"

Wordlessly, Jill stepped forward, sliding the bolt across, then depressed the door handle. She entered in first. Her mind was so preoccupied with Betty that it took her a few seconds to take notice of her husband. He was much like he had been the night before; agitation and fear written across his features. However, this time he was pacing the room instead of cowering in the corner.

"Oh darling." Jill sighed, her attention now firmly fixed on her husband. "Come on love, it me. You're alright." Similar soothing words and noises left her lips as she walked slowly towards him. A soft, reassuring smile adorned her lips, a hand was outstretched for him to take.

But it seemed to have no effect. Gordon, if anything was becoming more agitated the nearer she came. With each step she made towards him, he took one back, until his back was against the far wall and he could retreat no further. His eyes, wide and wild, flicked between her, the bed, and the doorway.

"Gordon, love-" She started softly, though her words were cut off when he dashed forward, pushing his wife aside and reaching his mother. The force of his impact with her caused to Jill fall heavily against the wall, a noise of surprise leaving her lips, only to be drowned out by Gordon's distressed cries.

"Help me!" He clung to his mother's hands, staring with hatred and fear back at his wife. "She's evil! Can't you see what she's doing?"

"Gordon…" She tried again, losing the battle against the tears which had rushed forth at his words.

Betty wrapped her arms around the trembling form of her son, glaring at her daughter-in-law, as she drew him away. Her look of horror upon seeing the bolted door had only intensified.

"I'll never forgive you for this." Gordon yelled. "Never! I hate you!"

Jill shook her head, releasing a desperate sob. She sank against the wardrobe, her hand covering her mouth against more sobs.


	19. Chapter 19

He opened his eyes slowly, biting back a groan as his head thumped with each tiny movement. The frown that creased his brow only served to worsen the pain, yet it went unheeded as he struggled to make sense of the figure sat upon the chair in the corner of the room. "Mum?"

The woman raised her gaze. "Good you're awake." She closed the book in her lap. "Jill's gone back to work, you'll be pleased to know. Don't worry, I won't let her near you again."

"What?" He frowned again, trying to make sense of the muggy memories trying to push themselves into his cognisance.

"I've seen what she's been doing to you Gordon. Locking you in here and giving you all sorts of pills" She rose then, making her way to the bedside table. Her wizened fingers plucked two pills from the painted wood and held them up for Gordon to see. "She told me to give you these no earlier than 6 o'clock. But I won't! I won't do a thing that wicked woman says!"

"Mum." Gordon tried but she cut him off, presenting an anger he'd never seen before.

"I'm going to get you away from her Gordon. Then I'm going to report her to your boss, and to the police. I'll make sure she can't hurt anyone again."

Gordon addressed his mother once more, this time more forcefully. He heaved himself into a sitting position, despite the pain it caused him, as if to further emphasise the point he was about to make. But before he could begin to defend his wife, he mother cut across him, shooting him down quite strongly.

"Don't you dare try and defend her. I saw how terrified you were of her."

"What do you mean?" He asked eventually, a heaviness overcoming him. "What did I do?"

"You were sobbing Gordon! You wouldn't let her near you. You told her you hated her, and quite rightly that you'd never forgive her. You pushed her away for goodness sake! What does that tell you?"

But Gordon ignored her question, focussing instead on her previous words. He'd said all those terrible things, he'd pushed her. He'd hurt Jill… A feeling of nausea grew that had little to do with the drugs. "Did I hurt her? I- I have to phone her."

"You'll do no such thing! That evil woman deserves everything that comes to her."

"Mum… Please…" He let out in a strangled tone, though knew it was no use. She was protecting her child, pure and simple, he'd do the same for Katie and Tom. Yet it was unfortunate that she didn't understand, that the person she was trying to shield him from was the only person who could help him. "Could you fetch me some water?" Eventually he asked, feeling this was the only way to get some respite, to allow him to think. This request at least, she seemed willing to do. Once she'd left the room he collapsed back against the pillows.

It was with increasing guilt that he thought back over his mother's words. He could hardly comprehend that he'd ever treat Jill so harshly. He knew it was the withdrawal that had made his words cruel and cutting; he could only hope Jill held onto the knowledge too.


	20. Chapter 20

During the drive back to the hospital, Jill fought to compose herself. She tried to push the memories from her mind in order to carry on as she should, yet she could not. Her shoulder still hurt from when he had pushed her. The worst pain of all though, was not physical. Deep down, she knew he had shouted those terrible words at her as a result of the withdrawal. But she couldn't stop them from bringing tears to her eyes, which she hastened to blink away; she'd reapplied her makeup before starting the drive, there was no time to mask the tear tracks again. It took a great deal of effort and slow, forced breathing however to prevent the pressure of sobs from being released. 'I hate you' was the phrase that kept coming back to her, so vivid it was as if he was beside her now. With a sniff, she drew a finger beneath her eye to capture a tear before it fell to mar her foundation.

His mother had certainly been disgusted by the entire situation. Henry had been silent, an expression of shock fixed on his features as she'd fled past him. It made her doubt, once again, their decision.

It was with a weary sigh that she drew up at The Royal. She stepped from the car, pulled herself up and held her head high, forcing a mask to settle on her features. "Hi." She rang out surprisingly brightly as she stepped into reception, smiling at Lizzie, Frankie and Alun as she accepted her patient notes for the afternoon. She flicked through them on the way to her office, noting how the pile was considerably larger than normal with the addition of Gordon's patients.

"I never thought I'd see it." Lizzie whispered as the doctor departed.

Alun frowned. "See what?"

"Doctor Weatherill; she's had her heart broken."

"But she's hasn't split up with Doctor Ormerod, has she?" His frown deepened.

"No."

"She seems like her usual self."

"Look at her eyes." The receptionist replied somewhat mysteriously.

It was Frankie who piped up next, continuing the gossip. "If Doc Ormerod's half as horrible to her as he is to me, then I do feel sorry for her."

"What do you mean Frankie?"

"Well, he's constantly snapping when I drive him around. One day I asked if he was okay and he went into a rant, telling me not to get above myself and how I had no right to question his judgement!"

"Gosh… No wonder Doctor Weatherill looks tired. I bet he's worse with her. Wonder what's got into him."

The three looked towards Jill's office, as if to divine more information through a closed door. However, what the trio didn't know, was that the doctor in question hadn't actually entered her office. After collecting her notes from Lizzie, Jill had reached her office door before realising she had missed lunch and was rather hungry. She had thus turned with the intention of raiding the biscuit tin, when their conversation became apparent.

She closed her eyes briefly, fighting to maintain her composure and not reveal that she could hear them. The exact words weren't audible, but through the whispering she was sure she made out her own name, and her husband's.


	21. Chapter 21

At the sound of the front door opening, Gordon dashed from the living room and into the hallway, taking Jill in his arms almost before she'd entered the house. She emitted a surprised noise at the sudden contact with her husband, though after the momentary shock, she soon wrapped her arms around him.

"Are you okay Love?" She asked, suddenly concerned as to the cause of his actions. If he had taken the medication she'd left him at the time she had specified, he should be alright. But if he hadn't, he may be suffering from withdrawal induced anxiety once again. It came as a great relief therefore when he assured her he was fine.

"It should be me asking you that question." He continued, placing a kiss to her hair and holding her tighter still. Her doctors' bag, still in her hand was digging into his back slightly from when she'd wrapped am arm over her shoulder. But he didn't mind; he was just grateful he still had the privilege of being able to hold her. "I'm so sorry about this morning."

She shook her head. "No need. You-"

"Get off my son."

In an instant, Jill shot away from Gordon, yet he hooked an arm around her waist to bring her beside him once more. "Mum." He warned yet she appeared to take no heed. The glare she fixed on her daughter-in-law did not diminish in its intensity, and despite her small stature, she made a formidable presence sweeping towards them. Jill thought for a brief moment that she was not unlike Matron.

"I said get away from him."

Jill held her doctors' bag before her as if you protect her, and she shrank against Gordon. If it were anyone else trying to intimidate her, she would have retaliated, calmly, showing them she wasn't one to back down. But this was Gordon's mother. She couldn't respond to her as she would anyone else. She wasn't about to alienate Gordon from his mother. Or indeed alienate Gordon from herself.

"I think we all need to sit down calmly and talk." It was Gordon who uttered this, already exerting a gentle pressure against her back, and drew her with him, past his mother and through into the living room.

"Ah Jill." Henry looked up as they entered, offering her a gentle, sad smile. He had obviously heard the brief exchange in the hallway. "I'll leave you to it." He made to rise but paused as Jill spoke.

"No, Henry, you're a part of this family. Please, stay." She looked to Gordon for confirmation who nodded, echoing his wife's words. He then seated himself on the settee, bringing Jill down close beside him. The three occupants of the room then watched on silently as Betty swept into the room, choosing the middle cushion of the settee across the coffee table from the couple.

"I think-" Jill began, only to be cut off immediately by Mrs Ormerod.

"You have no right to think anything. I _know_ what's best for my son. And that is to be away from you!"

Gordon closed his eyes briefly. Already the 'talk' he had envisaged was very far from a civilised discussion. He was feeling understandably ill from the process of withdrawal and this was not helping. All he wanted was to lie down in a dark, quiet room and let sleep take over. Yet he couldn't. He couldn't let Jill down again. He had to do this for her. "Mum, please." He eventually sighed, interrupting her string of criticisms of his wife. "Please, just listen to us." This seemed to work at least for the moment, so, taking the opportunity presented, he hurriedly continued. "We've both had our doubts. But we discuss it again, and every time we come to the decision that this is the best course of action."

Jill nodded beside him, taking comfort from the pressure of his hand on her thigh, his thumb stroking back and forth, creating a pleasing sensation, even through the material of her skirt. "There is no other way. We can't risk telling anyone. Gordon's reputation would be compromised; there's no telling what it would do to his career."

"What about your health Gordon?." Betty exclaimed, her expression filled with horror, much the same as when she'd discovered her son locked in the room above their heads. "Have you forgotten what you were like earlier? You can't surely continue to let her put you through that?"

"I'm not denying it's not nice Mum." Gordon replied calmly, his hold on Jill tightening as he sensed her growing upset. "But as we've said, it's the only way. But what I hate most of all is putting Jill through this."

"Jill! Putting her through what? She probably gets some sort of sick pleasure from watching you suffer. We all know she's a workaholic; you've complained about it often enough." She shot a glare at the younger doctor who averted her gaze. "She's probably going to publish this whole fiasco in a magazine or whatever you doctors do. She's only using you to further her career."

"Don't be ridiculous." Gordon sighed. He hated how his mother was attacking his wife, yet he barely had the strength to begin defending her. All he could do was turn from Betty for a moment, and place a lingering kiss into his wife's soft hair. He murmured an apology, before using his free hand to gently tilt up her face. She shot him a weak, forced smile, her eyes teary and averted. He placed another kiss to her temple, stroked the soft skin of her cheek a few times, before dropping his hold to grasp her slightly trembling hands. Her digits slid across his, bringing his hand further into her lap, effectively increasing the contact between them.

"Betty-"

"Mrs Ormerod." The older woman retorted.

With a sigh, Jill tried again. "Mrs Ormerod… I love Gordon, so very much. And I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't have to. But can't you see? The drugs are harming him." She paused, thankful that her mother-in-law for now appeared to be listening. "Yes, withdrawal will be unpleasant. But the effects will only be short term. And once he's through, he can be free from the anxiety and pain the drugs are heightening."

When Betty didn't reply immediately, Jill held her breath. Had she finally gotten through to her? A feeling of hope crept upon her, but it was quickly turned once more to fear as there was a cough to her right. Henry… So far he'd remained silent, but now he looked set to speak. Jill gripped Gordon's hand tighter. It was crucial that he say something in support of them. If he were negative, it could undo all their hard work.

If Betty never came round to their way of thinking, neither Jill nor Gordon had any idea what the consequence would be.


	22. Chapter 22

"Thank goodness for Henry."

"Mmmm."

"He seems to be on our side."

"Yes…"

"And thankfully Mum seems to listen to him."

When all she did was nod in response, Gordon frowned. This lack of communication wasn't like his wife; she should be sharing the relief of it all with him. Instead, she seemed preoccupied.

"Darling?" He lifted a hand to her cheek, tilting her head so she would meet his concerned gaze.

She shook herself. She had to remind herself that her feelings and emotions were her own. She wasn't to share them with anyone else, least of all her husband. Gordon's recovery would not be speeded by knowing she was suffering inner turmoil. So, summoning all the energy and strength she had, she forced a smile, sitting up straighter and speaking brightly. "Sorry Gordon, I was miles away." She then proceeded to agree with him that yes, it was a blessing that Henry was there and had taken their side.

It was after she finished speaking that she noticed he was beginning to drift to sleep. It had been a long day. Not only had he been forced to continue with the now daily battle of withdrawal, but he had been made to argue his case against his mother. Thankfully, the children were once less thing to worry about for Henry and Betty had taken them to a hotel on the sea front for the night. The children thought this was a great adventure. They were also excited to be travelling by train with their grandparents all the way to Bournemouth the following day.

With all the stress of the day, it was therefore unsurprising that Gordon was falling asleep on the settee. Much as she wanted to stay cuddled up next to him and pretend everything was as it should be, she knew she couldn't. It was with a great effort that she persuaded him to climb the stairs and change for bed. He was becoming gradually more irritable with each step and Jill, doing a quick calculation in her head, realised his last dose of medication was wearing off.

"Come on Love." She soothed, forcing a soft smile to rest of her lips, despite it reflecting none of her emotions. "You'll feel much better once you're in bed."

He continued to grumble in response, fending off her attempts to help him undress. With a scowl in her direction, he gathered up his pyjamas and skulked into the bathroom, closing the door with a loud bang. Jill took the opportunity to quickly change into her nightgown. Her body felt heavy upon her frame, her eyes drooped and her smile vanished. She prayed Gordon would get at least some sleep before the effects of withdrawal took over completely. For when Gordon slept, she could sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

With a weariness which almost overcame her, Jill Weatherill opened the front door to her home. Her body nearly collapsed through the open doorway and she pressed a hand to her head, hoping the pressure would inspire some part of her to keep awake. The night before was long. Gordon had had a particularly difficult time, and as a consequence, so had Jill. He thrashed, he vomited, he cried and, much as she tried to quiet him, he screamed. She felt sure one of the neighbours would come around full of concern and good intentions.

Gordon had finally dropped off to sleep as it neared time for Jill to rise. She couldn't even snatch a brief few minutes of sleep for she was them besieged with morning sickness. It was now midday, and she was still suffering the effects of her pregnancy. More than once had she dashed to the little sink in the corner of her office that morning.

She was currently on her lunch break, though it provided on respite from the busy morning surgery. Gordon was due his next dose of medicine, and she needed to pack suitcases for the children; Betty and Henry would be taking them straight to Bournemouth later that day. The three adults thought it best Tom and Katie didn't return to the house, for fear of what they might see.

A crash from above her head stirred some energy within Jill. The panic that swept over her propelled her up the stairs at a remarkable speed, given her earlier lethargy. A second bang was audible from within the bedroom before her. The doctor wasted no time in sliding back the bolt and pushing the wooden door open.

"I hate you Jill Weatherill!" Gordon screamed, throwing something at her as soon as she was before him.

Silently, she bent down, picking the small object up; her engagement ring. "Gordon…" It was then she took in the state of the room. Her jewellery box had been overturned, its contents strewn around the room. An object by the bed caught her eye; the emerald inlaid bracelet Gordon had given her only a few days ago. She went to pick it up but he got there first, snatching it away and flinging it against the wardrobe.

"I shouldn't have bought that for you! You don't deserve it! You don't deserve any of this!" He stopped, breathing heavily, glaring at her. "Come here."

"What? Gordon, Love. Please."

"Come here!" He closed the distance between them in a quick stride, reaching down and pulling up her left hand. He went to work, bending and twisting her fingers painfully, forcing the metal band from her skin.

"Gordon! No! Ow!"

"Look!" He held the wedding ring up, close to her face; she couldn't help but flinch. He then held his own hand up, his finger too devoid of his golden symbol of their marriage. Her ring followed the path of her bracelet. She glanced between it and her husband, somewhat dazed as he continued to rant at her. He'd thankfully stepped away from her and made no further move to hurt her, physically at least. Yet his expression and gestures belied an anger and hatred she had never before seen presented in him.

She could help the tears that made their way down her cheeks, the sobs she released. She tried to convince herself that the drugs were the cause but it was so hard! It was her husband's voice saying those things, his eyes flashing so harshly, his hands that had been so rough.


	24. Chapter 24

"I'm sorry." He was curled up at her side, his head against her chest, his arms encircling her, clinging tightly around her middle.

"I know," she whispered, stroking her fingers through his hair. She noticed the trembling on her hand and hoped he didn't feel it. Despite the fact he had calmed after his medication, she was still shaken from his actions a mere half hour before. She held him tighter, needing to feel him close to her, needing to convince herself that he meant none of the harsh words he'd fired at her. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."

"It's my own fault." He yawned then, relaxing further against her. "I should have managed better… Should have talked to you." His words were becoming more and more slurred as he spoke. She doubted he would take in much of was she said. Nevertheless, she attempted to placate him and reassure him he shouldn't be so hard on himself.

"I love you Jill," he murmured even more sleepily.

Tears once more came to cloud her vision, though they were ones borne out of relief at his words. "I love you too. I know the next few weeks are going to be difficult for you, but please always try and remember that." He nodded, and she reluctantly raised her arm, hitching back her sleeve to take a look at her watch. "Gordon love, I have to be getting back to work soon."

Once again he nodded, grudgingly releasing her and laying lethargically back against the pillows. She bestowed a final kiss to his cheek, her figures following her lips before making a hurried start at repairing the damage her tears had done to her makeup. The trembling in her body was decreasing to be replaced by her earlier exhaustion; the temptation to crawl into bed and sleep the afternoon away was almost too great. Yet she knew she couldn't. It was with a start that she realised she hadn't yet packed Tom and Katie's suitcases. Betty, Henry and the children would be waiting at the train station in – she checked her watched and winced – 15 minutes. The undercurrent of panic which accompanied this information served to propel her towards the children's bedrooms and once again diminish some of her weariness. After handing over the luggage and saying goodbye to her step-children, she would likely be late beginning her house calls. The possibility of a simple afternoon and an early finish was fast slipping from her sight.


End file.
